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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25139011">On From Here</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stars_With_Darkness/pseuds/Stars_With_Darkness'>Stars_With_Darkness</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>How to Survive a Regime Change - by Hazel Relish [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Captivity, Homophobia, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I promise it's not, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Rape, Misogyny, Most of it is just verbal mentions but I didn't wanna blindside anyone, Multi, Panic Attacks, The tags make it sound really scary, Transphobia, mentions of torture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 01:58:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,822</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25139011</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stars_With_Darkness/pseuds/Stars_With_Darkness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hazel, a prisoner in Diablan, was taken from her family at a young age. Now held prisoner by the Blandevs, she believes all her friends, family, and allies to be dead, and struggles to reconcile her desire for a better world with her current reality. Then, she finds a hidden place under the prison where other survivors like her train and wait, to take back their world and to make it bright and beautiful again. </p><p>*I'll try to update once a day, but there will be at least 3 updates a week.</p><p>**I'll do my best to post any trigger warnings both in the story tags and the notes at the beginning, but please tell me if I missed any.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hazel Relish &amp; Shay Taylor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>How to Survive a Regime Change - by Hazel Relish [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820998</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Shay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>TW: Mentions of torture<br/>TW: Mentions of death</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hazel opened her eyes again, letting out a deep sigh. The brick walls surrounding her reminded her of her striped dress back at home, with the prison bars looming threateningly over the entire room.</p><p>She looked mournfully at her dress, which was stained with the porridge she’d knocked over to spite the Blandevs and their psychotic supporters. She sighed again, getting up gingerly to avoid the mess spreading, and opened the cell door.</p><p>Technically no one was supposed to leave their cell, ever, but Hazel knew that the guards believed her to be insane, and would assume she wandered off in a schizophrenic haze. They rarely checked her wing of the prison anyway, these days. She was the only one there left.</p><p>There used to be other people there. Her heart clenched as she remembered Shay, whose harsh but warm eyes always gave her hope. They used to be cellmates and would spend hours talking and daydreaming about the havoc they’d wreak on the Blandevs, on all of Diablan, once they got out. Shay had been far braver than her, though. She’d always hush up when the guards walked in, their checks being much more regular since back then, their entire wing had been full. Shay and the others never did though. They booed and jeered and shouted ridiculous things like <em>facts</em> to the guards, like they understood <em>facts</em>.</p><p>Hazel would always be so scared for Shay. She’d grab his arm every single before and after the visits and plead with him not to say anything, not to do anything. Shay never listened, though.</p><p>
  <em>“Why do you always do that?” Hazel had tears in her eyes. She clutched Shay’s arm and almost straddled him to meet his eyes. “They’re going to do something bad to you! Something really bad!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What, like beat me?” Shay snorted. A little blood escaped from one of the strips Hazel had fixed onto his chest. “That’d be so scary. I’m so scared.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“They might go farther,” Hazel hissed. “They might, I don’t know. Torture you or something. They might pull off your fingernails.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Shay winked at her. “Well, if they do, you’ll kiss it better, right?”</em>
</p><p>Hazel never got a chance to. That very next day, she woke up cold, without a very certain someone next to her. It had been 226 showings since that day, and no one from her wing had ever come back. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Showings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hazel remembers the first few days of the showings.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: allusion to rape<br/>TW: homophobia<br/>TW:misogyny<br/>TW: mentions to tortures / beatings<br/>TW: transphobia<br/>TW: panic attacks</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hazel never knew what time it was down here. There weren’t any windows, all the meals looked the same, and the stone’s glow never faded. She wasn’t permitted lightbulbs; none of the prisoners were. She guessed the guards were afraid they’d use the glass to break free - although how glass could damage stone, she’d never know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The only reason she could understand the passage of days was the showings. The guards would barge into her cell every morning, kicking her awake. One of them would tie her up while the other would blindfold her, and they’d toss her into a small glass cage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Where are you taking me?” Hazel cried, sobbing as she curled up against the cold floor.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She felt a sharp kick from her right, and she slammed into the other wall.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hazel quietly sobbed, trying to console herself with the fact that at least she might get to see Shay again. The past two days had been unbearable, with the silence of the walls clanging in her ears. Even his scent was starting to fade from the room.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hazel cried harder.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Her cries began to sound like something she’d never heard before. “Oh God,” she thought. “Forget them killing me, I’m going to destroy my body by crying.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She tried to quiet down a bit, to soothe herself. “It’ll be okay,” she promised silently. “I’m going to see Shay.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The inhuman sounds, however, continued to grow louder. Hazel listened harder. It was a cacophony of screams and jeers and shouts, she realized. It almost...seemed familiar.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Almost like the sounds she remembered from the parade on the street when her parents had been killed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They’re going to execute me,” Hazel started shaking. “They’re going to torture me and execute me, just like they did to Shay. I’m going to die. I’m going to die.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hazel did not, in fact, die that day. In hindsight, she didn’t even regret all the showings. She no longer flinched when someone grabbed her neck or cried when she was beaten. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The showings also gave her a chance to observe all the Blandevs in their satanic glory. She didn’t understand the language they spoke, but it seemed very primitive. That, or they just never used words and chose to destroy their vocal cords. Either was equally probable, she supposed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guards had quarters down here, in the center of the prison. The entire thing was built like a labyrinth, and maybe that was why their cell doors weren’t locked. If you dared to escape, you’d almost certainly stay lost forever and would starve to death. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was another thing Hazel had the showings to thank for. The guards would </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> mumble something while marching. It took her about 40 showings to realize that they were mumbling the directions to where they were going. She spent the next 10 mornings feeling the shift of her box and associating it with the mumbles. It took another 20 to track the rest of the labyrinth. The lack of an authoritative presence certainly made things easier, along with her alleged insanity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hazel squeezed her eyes shut, curling up into the far corner of the box. The screams were deafening, now, and penetrated every corner of her body.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She didn’t know what they </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>. Even if she said something, it’s not like they’d be able to hear her above their discordance. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She’d cried so hard on the first day she’d given herself a headache. On the second day, she screamed and yelled at the crowd. Her sides still hadn’t recovered. The day after that, she glared at everyone in defiance, refusing to acknowledge the arena draped in red, or the silver garments of the Blandevs. Men as old as 70 and boys as young as 12 crowded in, eager to laugh and mock a model of everything they deemed to be inferior. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hazel didn’t know </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> they thought she was wrong. What did it matter, she wondered, if she saw the person when falling in love instead of the sex or gender? It was a personal preference - it didn’t affect anyone’s life but hers and the one she loved.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What did it matter that her heart told her that she was a girl? The heart and biology weren’t to be mixed together - gender and sex were two very different things.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hazel was proud of herself, and she refused to let anyone decide who that was. So the fourth day of showings, she curled up and faced the wall, adamant to keep herself separate from the hate and fear blowing through every inch of the arena. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She’d planned on trying that again today, but it was getting so hard. They seemed to be shouting louder than ever, and she felt each sound chipping away at her sanity, piece by piece. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She heard the lock on the cage turn, and she jumped. She wasn’t back inside yet. Why were they opening the lock?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The guard grumbled something to her and then threw a container in. Breakfast.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Her eyes narrowed. This was new. Usually, she only got breakfast after she was tossed back into her cell. She looked at the breakfast, then looked at the crowd. They seemed to get more and more excited the longer the breakfast was in the cage.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She looked at the breakfast, then at the crowd. Breakfast, crowd. Her eyes narrowed further.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They think I’m an animal,” she figured. “They want me to eat this like an animal.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She threw the container against the other wall of the cage and sat back.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not going to give them that satisfaction,” she thought determinedly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A snarl from behind her made her flinch. She saw the stick in his hand that he was thumping threateningly on the ground. “Oh gosh,” Hazel felt tense and nervous again. “I don’t want to give in to the crowd, but if they beat me every day, there’s no way I won’t die.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She started breathing harder and started rocking herself. There seemed to be a weight on her chest that reminded her of something she’d learned a while ago…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh my God, I’m having a heart attack!” Hazel couldn’t breathe. “I’m gonna die. This is how I die.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As you probably guessed, Hazel wasn’t having a heart attack, and she didn’t die that day either. She did learn if she acted helplessly, she wouldn’t be bothered or beaten. It was a compromise, she supposed. She didn’t prove their belief that women and the LGBTQ were animals and savages, and they assumed that they were powerful enough to break her. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>shoutout to my s/o and my best friends for hyping me up even though I have no idea what I'm doing :)) I love you :*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Other Wings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hazel reaches the guard's quarters and recalls the day she saw the other wings.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: captivity</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hazel glided along the path she’d marked with pieces of cloth from her dress - they were hardly necessary anymore, she’d embarked on this very same path almost daily. The walls got thinner and narrower as she went further, and the lights dimmed until she could barely see. It had taken her nearly 50 minutes the first time she had taken this journey - she’d had to bend down and find the cloth with her hands at every turn. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She could complete the whole thing in 15 minutes flat now. The speed, in part, had been created from a need to get away from the maze. She’d at first been so excited to wander around - had had a childlike dream where she’d escape and then singlehandedly crush the Blandevs, take back Diablan, and save everyone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then she saw the other wings.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel had never paid much attention to the other prisoners in her wing (while they were there). They seemed...so hurt and fragile. Much like Hazel had been herself. <strike>Much like she still was.</strike></span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Their reality hurt too much to see. If Hazel never talked to them, their suffering was never really real. <strike>Her suffering was never really real.</strike></span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shay had been more outgoing. He’d hang by the prison bars and cheerfully regal the wing, as far as his voice would go, with real stories, made-up stories, stories from his childhood - whatever he could think of, really. He wasn’t mature or clear-sighted enough to be a real leader, Hazel knew, but his laugh lit up the room, and his presence made the walls expand. The Blandevs never took kids younger than 12, but 12-year-olds were still kids. Kids who had lost their family and had lost hope. Hazel thought that maybe Shay gave some of that back to them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The other wings didn’t have a Shay. They were filled with quiet, miserable people who were either on the brink of death or looked like they wanted to be. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There were hundreds of them. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people in each wing, lined up in those tiny cells, 2 people each. Hazel had been lucky. Shay had become her best friend, and they both liked to cuddle. The close quarters hadn’t been much of an issue for them. These seemed to be strangers, though, forced to share a 6x6 living space with a toilet and a sink.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hazel only found them when the guards went to deliver lunch. She didn’t get lunch, or dinner anymore, and she threw away her breakfast every morning. The food she stole from the guard’s quarters sustained her, though she sometimes wondered if the guards questioned how she was alive. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Shay always taunted the guards - always booed and jeered and insulted them (shouted facts at them). The people in the other two wings...didn’t even try. They just sat there, with their broken eyes and broken spirit, and meekly did whatever the guards told them to.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hazel wanted to shout at them, urge them to do something. But she’d never had the charisma Shay had had, and the guards would’ve captured and most likely killed her. Besides, even if she did stir them up to do something, what then? The guards had killed her wing for having the audacity to speak up. The fate of these people would most likely be the same.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No, it was better this way. Hazel quietly slipped away, done with exploring for the day.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The maze seemed much scarier after that. Her cell was silent, cold, and lonely. But at least it was familiar.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A flicker of silver shone ahead, and Hazel hurried towards it. The quarters were made with silver everything - silver light, silver stone, silver furniture. The red, she supposed, was for the world outside.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They didn’t lock this door, much like they didn’t lock anything; another sign of arrogance that she could benefit from.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel slipped in.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know, I know, I didn't post yesterday but *gestures to the sleepy chapter written in the middle of the night* ta-da!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Quarters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hazel vibes in the guard's quarters.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>No trigger warnings? Who is she?<br/>Also yes I know I didn't post for like 4 days I'm FINE okay I'm FINE</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The inside was as bright as the outside. The silver lamps gleamed from the fire inside of them. The room was chilly, but Hazel wasn’t cold. Not after all those days spent in prison. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hazel never dawdled here. There was no telling when the guards would arrive, and while their footsteps could be heard a hallway away, she didn’t want to take any risks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After the entryway, where there was space for coats and armor to be stored, there was an open living room of sorts, with elegant platforms raised, with cushions haphazardly thrown over them to create a sitting and sleeping area. There was also a kitchen, although there wasn’t much food there - only some milk and chicken, and ingredients to make the porridge - a bathroom, and a basement. There was an enormous chest in front of the basement steps, which contained all the stolen items of the prisoners.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hazel’s dresses, jewelry, and books were in the dresser as well. She usually changed quickly into a new dress, washed the old one, blowdried it, put it back, took some food, and got out into the maze. Today was no different.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She chose a strapless purple dress, with a cliched waist that ended a little above her knees. This was one of her favorite dresses, and she wanted a bit of a pick-me-up today. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hazel was in a good mood, and she took advantage of it by twirling around and singing as she went around her routine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Think I wanna kiss a girl</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Think I wanna hold her hand</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Think I wanna buy her a diamond ring</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Double wedding dresses planned</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>she sang while changing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m wiser and stronger and better here</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Away went the pain and heartache and fear</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>she sang while washing her blue dress.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sang throughout making and eating the chicken, and while she put everything back into place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I think it’s lovely when you’re smiling</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I think it’s lovely when you laugh</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I love the way you’re so inspiring</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Captured in this photograph</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hazel paused in her singing. There were...drums? She was so lost in the music she thought they were a part of the song at first. But this was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Footsteps. Loud, marching, footsteps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God oh my God shit shit shit,” Hazel scrambled to put the dishes away. She had about 20 seconds until the guards came in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do I do where do I go?” Hazel knew she couldn’t go outside; they’d see her. Her only choice was to hide.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked around. Everything was open, except the bathroom, but she didn’t think that was safe enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The footsteps were louder. They were only 10 seconds away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hazel looked at the basement, with its door ajar and darkness seeming to warn off anyone who dared enter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Guards. Basement. Guards. Basement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Basement it was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hazel jumped over the chest, slipping into the musk of the blackness just as the door opened.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you to my amazing beta nikkithecicada who's like a really super awesome writer and I love her.</p><p>The songs are mine and I do not give permission for them to be used elsewhere.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Basement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hazel explores the basement and finds something rather interesting.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>No trigger warnings again? It's like I'm a whole different person.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The steps didn’t shine here. Hazel assumed they were silver or red since everything Blandev was silver or red, but the stairwell was too dark to make out anything. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She walked down what must have been 500 or more steps before she saw a hazy red light that led to a room. “Finally,” Hazel thought, hurrying over.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The room was extraordinarily dusty, and while it made her uncomfortable, at least she knew there was a slim chance of the guards coming down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The room was filled with weapons - swords, daggers, armor, poisonous gas. They were stacked in glass cabinets, which spread throughout the room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel’s fantasy of escaping began to stir again. “I could take these back with me,” she thought excitedly. “I could run away and overthrow the king and take Diablan back.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just as quickly as the fantasy had come, though, it vanished. Hazel didn’t know anything about the world outside except for her observations from the showings and her memories as a child. The guards were stupid, but there were also a lot of them and they knew how to mobilize.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel’s courage wilted a little, but she quickly pushed it out of her mind. “I can at least escape,” she decided. “I can teach myself to use these weapons and then escape one day.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With that thought in mind, she began exploring the room with greater enthusiasm. The weapons had dulled without use, and on closer inspection, Hazel realized that quite a few of them were stolen from the people kidnapped. She didn’t know why they were being kept here instead of in the palace, where the other weapons presumably were, but she wasn’t complaining. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She hesitantly reached out and opened a cabinet, almost expected alarms to go off, but nothing happened. She took out a sword, turning it around to take a better look at it. The hilt was gold, and the sword itself was dotted with dark blue jewels. It was dull and dusty, but Hazel adored it. She didn’t know how to wield a sword, and she was certain the way she was holding it right now (like a walking stick) wasn’t correct, but her dream felt almost tangible now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She looked around some more, trying to find armor that would fit her. She looked at each cabinet, slowly making her way to the back of the room. Then she paused.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a door in the right corner. The doorknob wasn’t dusty like the rest of the place, though. Hazel hesitated, wondering if this is what would set off the alarm, but curiosity got the better of her (plus she had a poisonous gas and her </span>
  <em>
    <span>sword</span>
  </em>
  <span>) and she opened the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The room - the closet, really - just had books. Hazel peered at the shelves, trying to decide if these were battle plans or letters of the Blandevs or something. This wasn’t the primitive scrawl of the Blandevs, though. This almost looked like…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Vidled?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel stared at the rows of books written in her language, in the language she and Shay and her family would speak. She hadn’t seen Vidled in so long.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel rushed towards the books, tucking her sword under her arm. She forgot about keeping cover, about waiting for a bit before going back upstairs. All she could feel was the nostalgia and childhood comfort washing through her body as she hungrily grabbed each book off the shelf and scanned through it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was so focused on reading each book, on remembering the stories of her childhood, that she hardly noticed the books getting less and less dusty as she took each book off the shelf right to left. Near the end of the row, there was a thick book called </span>
  <em>
    <span>History of Asha: Myths and Legends and How We Came to Be</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Asha?” Hazel wondered. She’d never heard of that place before, nor had she ever seen that book. Curious, she reached out and slid it off the shelf.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The cover was a dark green with violet and gold laced together to make the title name. There wasn’t a picture on the front. Hazel raised her eyebrows, turning the book around before she shrugged and decided to read it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before she could open it, though, she felt a prick on her upper neck. She barely grabbed her sword before everything went dark.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Last set-up chapter, y'all.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A.U.R.A Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hazel wakes up in an interesting place and meets some interesting people.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Two chapters in a day? I know, it's crazy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“...starved...South Wing...display every day…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...strong...Diane....”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sounds woke Hazel up more than anything else. It’d been so long since she’d heard words she could understand. She blinked her eyes open slowly, seeing a warm and welcoming gold light.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then her memory rushed back and she froze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sat up quickly, tightening her muscles and preparing to fight off any Blandevs around her. As she looked around, though, she realized that there weren’t any. There were just two women in the corner of the room, who were now staring at her in surprise. She was in a very comfortable bed, which had white sheets. Her sword was now sharp, and lay on the table next to her, along with some water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you’re up!” one of the girls said. She was taller than Hazel, with striking cheekbones and freckles dotting her nose. Her hair was blonde (like gold, Hazel thought unbidden), and her eyes were soft green. She was wearing a ribbed long light blue sleeve shirt, with sunlike gold earrings. She had black cargo pants that had chains on them, and her boots were not unlike Hazel’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In other words, she was beautiful.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She frowned, narrowing her eyes at the women, and ignored the blush on her face. “Who are you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other woman stepped forward. She was striking too, but more dangerously. She was clad head to toe in midnight leather and had red lipstick on. Her eyes seemed obsidian too, and her hair was brown that turned to black at the tips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hazel didn’t want to admit it, but she was scared of this woman.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m Mel, and this is Diane.” Her eyes softened a little. “We’re revolutionaries, you could say. AURA, which stands for Ashan United Revolutionaries for Asha. We’re trying to drive out the Blandevs. You stumbled upon us, like a lot of the people here did, and just like them, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you help out. I’m one of the leaders here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She paused, looking at Diane. “Diane will show you around and help you get settled in. If you have any concerns, feel free to come to me directly. Despite my appearance, I assure you I don’t bite.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She swept out of the room before Hazel had a chance to say anything. Hazel looked at the beautiful girl - Diane - a little helplessly. She didn’t feel like she was in danger anymore, because no woman would be allowed to be allied with the Blandevs, but she still felt lost and confused. She also had so many questions, like where were they, and how did they know she wasn’t dangerous, and why weren’t they well known. But there was also an overwhelming part of her that told her to shut up because, after a long time, she finally had the chance to have a friend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Friends,” she thought. “All you have to do is channel the younger you and make friends with her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Hazel smiled brightly at Diane. Diane beamed back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi!” she responded cheerfully. “I have to say, you’re taking this a lot better than the others. Aren’t you scared?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m terrified. But if I pretend the problem isn’t there, then it’ll go away, you know?” Hazel smiled winningly at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diane let out a surprised giggle. “Hazel, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hazel paused, her suspicions rising again. “How do you know my name? I never told you my name.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diane rolled her eyes. “We all know you, silly. You’re the only one left in the South Wing, and you’re the only one who they take out for the displays. All of us here know you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hazel relaxed again. “Oh.” She looked around the room, then got up slowly. “So, uh. Show me around?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diane beamed again and grabbed Hazel’s hand. “Okay, come on! Get your sword and I’ll show you around - this place is huge!”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>We're finally at the not boring fun stuff!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. A.U.R.A Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Diane shows Hazel around.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I knowww this is late but! It's long!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hazel liked Diane showing her around, she decided. Diane clearly loved AURA, and something about Diane settled something in Hazel and allowed her to relax in this unfamiliar place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were in the infirmary,” Diane explained. “That’s where we keep all the new people, just in case they have a side effect to the darts or, uh… being technically kidnapped.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel giggled. “Pretty nice place to be kidnapped. How and why do you have such nice things, anyway?” Hazel hadn’t seen a place this beautiful since she’d been a child.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Chris brings them to us,” Diane answered. “He’s a Blandev who spies for us. Technically there are more spies but he’s the only one who Mel lets in.” She paused. “We have nice things because, after years at war, we deserve them.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diane led Hazel out into a hallway, which had dozens of portraits displayed along it. “These are pictures of our loved ones who’ve died in this war,” Diane said, her voice much softer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel's smile faded as she peered up at the collection of faded portraits on the wall. Her initial anger and fear flooded back into her mind. AURA really was a revolution, she realized. It was more than just an oasis with pretty girls and soft beds. It was a revolution to restore equality to the world, to Asha. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you know any of them?” Hazel murmured, watching Diane closely.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not the people here. I’ve only heard of them. My family’s portraits are closer to my room. There are portraits in every hallway, so we always know what we’re fighting for.” She turned to Hazel and shook her head a bit, her eyes clearing. “We can put your family’s portraits up near your room too if you want.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel smiled gratefully. “I’d like that.” Truthfully, Hazel hadn’t thought about all she’d lost, well, ever. Sadness was paralyzing, she knew, and her anger motivated her. And the last thing she wanted was to be stuck in that cell,  paralyzed. She figured she’d have to think about it someday, but she really did not want that day to be today, right now, in front of a very pretty girl. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My room? Can I see it?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diane rolled her eyes. “Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you still have to see literally </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything else</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel grinned. “Well, alright, then, my captain. Onwards we go!” She blamed her sudden weirdness on the fact that Diane was </span>
  <em>
    <span>still holding her hand and had been this entire time</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You are cool and smooth,” she thought determinedly. “You got this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least Diane thought she was funny.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Indeed, my lieutenant.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She didn’t mean like. That I’m hers,” Hazel thought frantically. “She was just going along with what I said. Like we’re like professional coworkers. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Very </span>
  </em>
  <span>professional.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diane turned right in the hallway and opened the two gleaming glass doors into a large bright atrium. The blue and gold swirls reminded Hazel of the ocean and the sky, things she hadn’t seen in a long while. There were four other glass doors in the atrium, each as decorated and magnificent as the one she had just walked through, spaced evenly along the wall to the left and in front of her. To her right, there was a large seating area with tables and desks and snacks. Large swaying trees partially covered it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The entire space was filled with Ashans. All kinds of people dressed in some form of blue and gold filled the atrium, talking, laughing, arguing. There must have been at least 100 people in the atrium alone. Stunned, Hazel led her eyes up the painted walls, where the dome ceiling was made of...glass?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel whipped her gaze back to Diane, who had been watching her with amusement. Hazel had so many questions, she barely knew where to start, but the most pressing one was</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re outside??”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Kind of. You know how Asha’s on a hill?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel nodded. Diablan - formerly known as Asha before the Blandev takeover - sat on a wide hill. Some of the outskirt villages were on the slope instead, and if you traveled for a while past the South Side, there was a lake that looked like an ocean, which the merchants would sail across to trade. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re kind of under the South Side of the hill right now,” Diane explained. “The Blandevs don’t come here, because why trade when you can pillage.” she chuckled sarcastically. “The beach is also a really good place to train.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel hardly registered Diane’s words, still barely believing the sight before her. It had been years since she’d seen the world outside (showings didn’t count). </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we go outside?” Hazel asked desperately. Diane smiled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Very soon, I’ll take you outside personally. But I still need to show you everything else, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> there are a few people I want you to meet.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But after that, we’ll go outside?” Hazel checked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diane laughed. “Yes, after that, we’ll go outside.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diane led her to the first door on their left, but Diane didn’t move to open it. “This is the library-study-meeting room-headquarters,” she said. “You don’t usually go in there unless you want to read or study or talk to the generals. Sometimes they’ll call us in there for meetings, but that doesn’t happen very often. We won’t go in there right now since the first days are too busy to sit down and read, but maybe some other time.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel raised an eyebrow. “The generals?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diane nodded. “Yeah. You already met Mel - Mel Hill - but there’s also Laura Kaur, Dakota Windsor, and Kyrie Alpin. Mel is in charge of all the new recruits and training them. This entire place, and how it’s run, is basically her design. We don’t see the other generals as much. Laura and Dakota are usually out helping the nearby villages and citizens, and they save as many people as they can - whether it’s by bringing them here, or by providing them with food and water. Kyrie is the one we see the least. They make all the plans for the attack. Whenever it’ll happen.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel nodded. “Pronouns?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diane smiled. “Mel and Laura are she/her, Dakota is he/him, and Kyrie is they/them.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They moved on to the next door. This one Diane opened. “Come on in,” she invited. “This is the dining hall, and it’s 4:00 pm so it’s empty right now, but there are always snacks available.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The white stone floor from the atrium extended into here, and the circular white stone tables seemed to rise up from it. There must have been a hundred tables there, each with four golden chairs around it. There was a mural of the sky on the ceiling and a mural of a sandy beach on the side walls. At the very back of the room, a table with fruits and drinks and dessert was in front of another glass door that presumably led to the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I…” Hazel looked around wildly because maybe this was all a dream and she would wake up and have to go back to eating a few Blandev leftovers daily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diane tugged her towards the table. “Come on, we can eat whatever and however much we want as long as we don’t waste anything. Mel hates waste. We give the villages any extra food we have.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel slowly reached out and grabbed a granola bar, mesmerized. It was a chocolate chip, and it was something she hadn’t had since a child. She was surprised she remembered what it was. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diane smiled and grabbed a brownie. “We can stay here for a bit if you want but you might wanna wait until dinner so you have an appetite then. Besides, you haven’t really been eating a lot, so if you try to stuff yourself now, you might get sick.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah...yeah,” Hazel nodded, shaking herself out of her daze. “You’re right.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diane grinned. “Back into the world!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They left the dining hall, and Hazel was proud to say she only glanced back at the spread of food twice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The next glass doors also had a set of brown oak doors behind them. The roar of voices overwhelmed Hazel’s ears just as Diane opened the door. Hazel’s jaw dropped. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The room was enormous, at least three dining halls big. The entire wall to her right was covered with weapons of all sorts - swords, daggers, shields, anything you could think of, really - and the room was filled with spaces for AURA to train. There weren’t that many people in the room, maybe 30 or so. Most of them looked up in curiosity when the door opened, then quickly looked back down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Welcome to our training hall,” Diane proclaimed, her voice echoing in the large room. “We’re not going to stay here right now cause your training starts tomorrow, but I thought you should know it’s here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What are...what are the doors in the back for?” Hazel’s mind reeled with the implications of an actual training hall with weaponry. This was it. This was actually real. They were actually going to take Asha back, in a feat that would be paid with blood and lives. She hadn’t learned nothing by spending all that time alone in a cell, though, and she quickly pushed it out of her mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diane smirked. “That’s a surprise you’ll get to see tomorrow,” she sang, grabbing Hazel’s hand again and dragging them out into the atrium again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diane turned to face Hazel, walking backwards towards the last door. “What do you think so far?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s...amazing,” Hazel admitted. “It’s more than I ever dreamed of.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diane nodded. “Yeah, I get that. We’ve all been prisoners once - except for the generals, who ran away when the kingdom was being attacked and founded AURA.” SHe smiled, lost in a memory. “They’re strict and there’s a lot you have to do, but we all love each other here, and we’re a family - even if we all don’t get along.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hazel nodded, hopeful. She really wanted a family again, and it seemed like now she finally had one.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Here we are,” Diane announced, opening the last set of glass doors into a hallway, which was also covered with portraits.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are we at quarters?” Hazel asked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diane grinned. “Yep! You’re rooming with me, which is why Mel asked me to show you around. There are 40 rooms on each floor, which is 80 people. There are four floors total. We’re on the second floor.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They walked down the hallway, passing 10 doors. There was an intersection in the middle, with the four hallways looking like a four way street. There were stairs in the middle, which Diane walked up, Hazel following her. Their door was the fourth door on the right of the left hallway. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Here we are,” Diane said, opening the door.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Imagine writing a fanfic instead of doing work...couldn't be me *shifts eyes* really couldn't be me...</p></blockquote></div></div>
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